The Wizard And The Dragon

by Joseph Anderson

  Drawing from the stone didn’t feel right to me, nor did it sound like Tower’s instructions. I kept my focus around it and studied it, circling my power around it as if to feel it from every angle. I don’t know how much time passed before I felt the change. I was attuned with it. It was a similar sensation to holding something for so long that you warmed it with your body heat. I held it with my focus until it was warm with my magic.

  The next step was to create the fire and I was nervous merely thinking about it. I had created heat but fire was something else entirely. The control of it had eluded me and I suspected it was more a problem with my fears than a lack of knowledge and experience. Each time I would feel the stirring of energy coalesce around my fingertips and then snatch my hand away when I began to conceptualize the fire. I don’t know what frightened me more, the idea that the fire may get out of my control, or that I may horribly burn my hand by not converting the energy properly.

  Without a window in the room I had no idea how many hours I spent on the precipice of creating fire and then backing away from it at the last moment, terrified of what might happen. Many times I thought of going to Tower for assistance but stopped myself. In the last few months I had gotten used to being treated like an adult. I was capable of learning and figuring things out for myself. I resolved to do this on my own.

  The idea scratched at me distantly at first, and I found myself in a dreamlike state considering another option. I looked at the lit candle on my desk and the fire that was already there, already burning, safe and controlled. That was fire that could be handled and funneled around the sollite. It wasn’t fire that I had made, but perhaps if I held it for long enough it would work as well.

  I pushed the thought from my mind and spent another long stretch of time fruitlessly gathering energy around my hand. Each time I failed I would look longingly at the simple fire on the table. Each time I failed my resolve waned a little more. It must have been deep into the night when the temptation finally won me over and I extended my hand to the candle.

  The fire was taken so easily it was as if it wanted to be handled. I drew the flame into my hand, beckoning it through the channels of energy that I kept around my fingertips. The fire danced above my palm just as calmly and nicely as it did on the candlewick and I smiled, a smile full of relief and joy. On my hand it felt gentle, and I felt stupid to be afraid of such a simple thing. Still, the thought of creating my own flames felt like a dangerous one.

  I held out my hand to the sollite as though it was an offering. The connection I had with the stone had been kept steady the entire night, and now I sent the fire slowly through that link. The reaction was slow at first, with little sparks of flame circling around the acorn sized object. Each moment that passed saw another ball of fire add to the orbit until it was a complete circle of fire, spinning as one connected unit.

  The fire reached its critical mass at that point and the remaining flames whipped from my hand and into the sollite. There was an abrupt burst of light as the metal itself ignited. The deep oranges, reds, and yellows of the fire swirled amongst each other, crashing and building into itself until there was a second eruption so bright that I had to shield my eyes with my forearm.

  I expected the table to be burned to ashes when I looked back, or at the very least a fire beginning to burn and consume the wood. Instead there was a single flame, a little plumper than the one that had been on top of the candle but no less similar to it. I could see the sollite core hovering comfortably in the center of the fire.

  “Hello?” I asked, and immediately felt foolish. I hadn’t read enough to know how this worked. Would I be able to talk with a familiar? Could it talk back?

  The peak of the flame seemed to shudder in response to my words and then turned, as though it was considering me. The flame looked awkward in that pose, with the fire building up and curving to the side of it instead of at the top. It looked unnatural and odd. Fire was supposed to rise.

  I was ready to admit that I had done the spell wrong and go to Tower for help when it began to move. The center part of the fire was white hot, a darker orange on the outside, and blue at the base. As it moved around the table, the white section seemed to extend down to the wood, as if tiny feet with plodding around down through the fire and causing it to move.

  I was suddenly afraid that the table would catch fire, and felt stupid that it had taken me that long to start worrying about it. There seemed to be slightly darkened patches in the wood wherever it traveled, but no signs of it catching fire. If I looked closely, it appeared that a faint ember of fire was left after each of its footsteps, but it was near instantly drawn back up into the central fire as if it didn’t want to lose any of its heat.

  My familiar stopped when it reached the candle. Its peak moved again, as if it was looking the candle up and down. After a moment it leaped up at it and caught fire to the wick. A low spitting noise came out of it and then it settled, a flame easily triple the size that was previously on the candle, but at rest and comfortable on top of it.

  “Newborns sleep a lot. Is that what you’re doing?” I said out loud, more for myself than the elemental. The core was nestled against the wick of the candle, and the wax showed no signs of receding from the flame. Its enchant remained and it would not go out.

  I weighed the option of going down to tell Tower that I had done it, but the passage of time came crashing down on me as I saw the familiar sleeping. It had to have been many hours since I came up here and Tower was most likely asleep. I settled into bed myself, blissfully unaware of how my life would change the next day.

  Two things would never be the same after I woke up.

  The first: I had a familiar of my own now, a magical creature to accompany my studies of magic and my new life as a wizard.

  The second: when I woke up the next morning, Tower was gone.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I woke up in a panic, expecting to find the room ablaze from something that had gone wrong while I slept. I ran my eyes around the room and found that everything was fine. My fear was misplaced. I looked at the candle and saw that my familiar was still on top of it. It looked like it was sleeping.

  I put my feet on the floor and got out of bed. I tried to be as quiet as possible and halted when I was upright and watched the candle. It didn’t seem to notice or react to what I was doing. I walked slowly to the door, wondering the entire time if I was being ridiculous. I wasn’t even sure if an elemental was capable of hearing things. I reminded myself to start reading the book Tower had given me as soon as possible.

  When I opened the door I heard something crackle behind me. I turned and saw the flames jump down from the top of the candle and start walking along the table. Behind it, the candle remained lit but with a much smaller fire.

  The fire elemental looked bigger to me than it had the night before. There seemed to be a clearer outline of a figure amongst the white heat in the center portion of the flame. The ‘legs’ that plopped down from the middle of it looked to have to stretch further to hit the table.

  It hopped down onto the floor and landed into a roll. It continued to move in that form, a spinning ball of fire, for a few meters along the floor before stopping in front of me. I saw the sollite core still rotating quickly even though the flames around it had come to a stop.

  “Coming with me?” I asked.

  The familiar glowed brighter for a moment, as though it sent out a quick burst of light as a response. I smiled at it and then walked out of the room.

  As I walked down the stairs I felt as though I was being followed by a stray kitten. The steps were far too tall for the elemental to descend comfortably, and it made a faint crackle each time it fell down and landed on each step. At first I was worried and again wished I knew more about them—could I safely hold it? But with each fall it continued unperturbed. It didn’t seem to feel pain.

  There was no food on the table and I went over to the stockpile of gemstones. I had been the sole provider of fo
od for a few months and I hadn’t perfected the technique yet. It took me a few more seconds than Tower so we had fewer meals per gemstone. Still he insisted that I continue practicing despite the waste, instructing me that I would get better at it each time.

  There was no water either and I frowned at the prospect of my familiar following me down so many stairs. It would take me a few minutes to make the first half of the trip. I didn’t want to strain my familiar on its first morning.

  “You’ll have to wait here,” I said to it.

  I took a step toward the doorway and saw that it still followed me. I turned around again.

  “No, no, you’ll have to wait here. Ah,” I looked around the room uselessly, as if I would find something to help me. “You can see, right? You must be able to if you can see to follow me. Stay. Here.” I said firmly and pointed to the ground.

  The peak of the flame tilted to the side, as if it had craned its neck to look at me with a confused expression. I puffed out my cheeks in frustration. I didn’t know what to do.

  “In any case I should give you a name,” I said and watched as the peak tilted the other way now. It wasn’t following my words. I began to worry that maybe I had done the creation spell wrong by using the fire from the candle. Perhaps because the fire hadn’t came directly from me the familiar wouldn’t listen. I strained my memory to recall any facts from what little I had read. Names were important with familiars, I seemed to remember from other books. But maybe a name couldn’t overcome a botched ritual.

  “I hope I made you right,” I said sadly, dreading the idea of having to snuff out the little flame and start over. “Let’s try a name then. Considering where you came from, I like Candle. Your name is Candle, do you like it?”

  Another head tilt. I exhaled and let the air hiss its way between my lips.

  “Candle stay here. Don’t follow me,” I tried one last time and, to my surprise, it worked. I took a step closer to the door and Candle stayed in the middle of the room. I took a few steps down and turned back and could still see it. It looked so delicate, a tiny flame on the stone floor. I promised myself that I wouldn’t make it be alone for long and rushed down the stairs. I only needed one bucket of water.

  In the cellar I refilled the spider’s water pail, and filled another bucket for myself. The water sloshed around wildly when I rushed up the stairs, and I had to force myself to slow down. I had not expected to be so concerned about a little being of fire, and already I had begun to understand what Tower had said about a familiar being a companion. I thought about what he must have went through when he lost his in the mines and frowned to myself.

  I half expected to see Tower sitting at the table when I got to the top of the stairs, but the room was exactly how I left it. Candle was still standing in the exact same spot as it was before. I placed the bucket on the dining table and then took a seat.

  “Come here Candle,” I said, and it immediately moved toward me, as though my words freed it of some binding that had it stuck to the floor.

  There was another moment of panic when it moved too quickly and stumbled directly into my leg. At first it felt like a warm rush of air had hit me, followed by a small pebble bouncing off of me which must have been the acorn core. I jerked my leg back, expecting to feel a hot flash of pain, but nothing happened.

  Candle rocked its head back and forth at me as I looked down at it. I stretched out my hand and felt a dull heat rising from its body. I lowered my hand down closer and, although the heat intensified as I got closer, by the time I was nearly making contact with the fire the heat died away.

  I turned my head to get a closer look as my hand moved to and from Candle. Its body seemed to lose something of its intensity when my hand was near. I could see the floor through its body when my hand was close. I drew my hand back and the color returned. I moved my hand down to it and its form faded away again.

  I laid the back of my hand flat on the floor and Candle stepped onto it. It was still a daunting moment as the body of fire stood on my skin. When I finally adjusted to the fear that I may be burned at any moment, I had to admit that the feeling was quite pleasant. It was like having a pool of warm water in my hand.

  I lifted Candle up to my face. I was curious about how my familiar worked and began to extend my focus around it. I felt the same type of swirling build up of magic that I did when Tower was concentrating energy into fire in his hand, but this energy came from inside of the elemental’s body. The sollite within it must have been very powerful.

  On a whim I funneled some energy into my hand and felt the heat increase dramatically. I turned my face slightly from it and felt the heat burn against my cheek as if I was sitting too close to a fireplace. My hand felt fine, but I knew that would be the case from watching Tower hold flames. Candle seemed almost happy with the power I concentrated around it, and let out little crackles and tiny roars in response.

  Once again I found myself smiling at the little creature. I let my focus recede and then placed him on the table. I saw him walk around it and noted that it kept its faded form when it stood on the wooden table. Like the one upstairs, each little ember left behind quickly rejoined with Candle’s body and was lost in the rest of the flames.

  Focusing fire had drained me of some energy and my stomach let out a loud rumble. My body was too small and unprepared for sustaining magic without a source. I concentrated my focus naturally around the stockpile of gems across the room and lifted one of them without getting out of my seat. I floated it casually through the air and then set it down on one of the plates on the middle of the table.

  I worked the gemstone quickly, filling out the energy into roast lamb, potatoes, green beans, and peas. I was proud of how far I had come in efficiently forming food out of gemstones, but the food was still about two thirds of what Tower could have made with the same gem. Still, for someone who had barely been practicing magic for a year I was pleased.

  I filled my plate and ate while I watched Candle poke at the food. One thing I did remember from other books was that elementals feed off of energy in a magical form or a similar element. Candle would be happy consuming energy from the gems directly or from sitting in a fireplace.

  Tower had still not come out of the study by the time I finished breakfast. It was unusual but had happened enough times before that I wasn’t concerned. I portioned out a meal for him and hoped it wouldn’t be too cold before he came out. I hadn’t been taught how to suspend food yet.

  I spent the rest of the morning fussing over Candle and didn’t start worrying that something was wrong until it was passed noon. At first I was concerned that maybe I had done something wrong with Candle after all, and that Tower had sensed as much and was angry with me for not following his directions. I had grown attached to the elemental over the course of the morning and hoped that it wouldn’t be taken away from me.

  I waited another hour before I knocked on Tower’s door. In the entire year that I had been living with him, he had never not answered within a few minutes after I knocked, even if it was a quick shout to say he was busy with a spell. When he didn’t answer, my mind immediately jumped to that he was hurt and I wanted to dive into the room. I still remembered that he had said to never go into the room if the door was closed. He had been so serious about that, what felt like a lifetime ago, that I paused with my hand still on the door handle.

  The two options battled inside me, conflicting with each other. Candle was busy jumping up each of the steps one at a time, struggling with each one. I looked at it and then the door and decided. Tower may be hurt inside and I might be wasting time. I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

  The room seemed unchanged to me at first. Books were still strewn across Tower’s desk and got more and more disorganized in the bookshelves the more I walked along the wall. The alchemist apparatus was intact and in their usual positions. Mist was still pouring out of the barrel half way into the room.

  The only difference was that the massive gem at the en
d of the room was gone. The stone floor was lighter where it had been, probably for years, and I stared at it. I remembered Tower telling me that it was the most powerful item in the entire room. He had made it by combining hundreds of other gems.

  That large gem would have contained more magic than I could have worked with in years. For that amount of energy to be gone now, missing with no sign of how it was moved, sent me into a panic.

  I sprinted across the room and banged my fists against the door to Tower’s bedroom. The sound rang out hollowly and I shouted out for him between slamming my hands against the wood. There was no answer.

  My heart was thumping loudly in my chest. I could feel my pulse in my ears. I had never been inside his bedroom before and I’m not sure if it was a surge of courage or fear that caused me to open the door and barge in. It was one of the strangest moments of my life—I hoped to be in trouble and to have a lecture waiting for me on the other side of that door. I wanted to rush inside to be in trouble and to be shouted at just so I wasn’t abandoned.

  The room was dark. There were a few candles inside but only one of them was lit. The bed was larger than mine but just as simple. It was empty. It dominated the small room and was circled by a few other scattered pieces of furniture: baskets, a cabinet, and a chest of drawers. No table, no closet, and no Tower.

  I marched out of the room and back into the main section of the tower. Candle had finally gotten himself up enough stairs that he was waddling through the door. I walked passed it and back down the stairs and heard a faint rustle behind me as it followed, likely disheartened that it climbed all of the stairs for nothing. Some part of me noticed but I was too focused on finding Tower to stop.